


moments unforgettable

by fallizbian



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Birthdays, Engagement, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Pillow - Freeform, commitment issues, firby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallizbian/pseuds/fallizbian
Summary: the events of January 17th, 2023title comes from "sunday morning" by maroon 5 (even though this particular day just so happens to be a tuesday)
Relationships: Kirby Anders & Fallon Carrington, Kirby Anders/Fallon Carrington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Pillow





	moments unforgettable

There are a lot of things that Fallon Carrington thought that she'd have by her thirtieth birthday. Up until just a few years ago she had been _so_ confident that by thirty her father would be comfortable turning the reins of Carrington Atlantic over to her. She'd been determined to have her life together by the time she would become CEO, and those plans included a husband and a beautiful house with an orchard and a pool and maybe some stables. She'd floated the idea of getting a head start on the family plans by then.

Thirty year-old Fallon Carrington has none of those things. She'd voted to dissolve her father's company, and truth be told she's got no idea where she's going with her own new venture. She's fumbled not one, not two, but three different engagements to different men. And having kids feels about as far away as when she'd been one herself.

She tries not to think too hard about the empty promises of her past when she wakes up to a chilly room and an empty pillow on January 17th. There's no husband there to wake her up with kisses and breakfast in bed. There's no corporation with pressing financial crises to attend to. 

By all accounts, Fallon should want to roll over again, pressing her face into the pillow and going back to sleep. She should be so disappointed in herself (she's sure her parents are). But Fallon wakes up in a house that she bought with her own money free of her parents and all their sins and it feels like a weight's been lifted off her chest for the first time in a long while.

She tosses the covers off, standing and stretching her arms to the sky as her tank top lifts just above her belly button. Fallon slips into a pair of pale blue slippers, making her way over to her mirror, running her fingers through her hair and swiping a pair of eye masks from the jar on her vanity. It's funny how they've become less necessary now that she's actually waking up feeling rested in the morning. 

As she sits in front of the vanity and grabs her moisturizer, the door opens behind her, the person behind it huffing at the sight.

“You know, you could've done me the decency of waiting until I got back to wake up.”

Heels clack on the hardwood floor and Fallon tilts her head as Kirby appears behind her in the mirror to press a kiss to her cheek. Kirby smirks, wrapping her arms around Fallon's shoulders and settling her chin on Fallon's shoulder. She pouts at Fallon.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Fallon hums and leans into Kirby.

“I can go back to bed and you can have a do-over?” she asks. Kirby furrows her brow, thinking for a moment. 

“No, it's not the same,” she says. Fallon smiles at the little dimple that pops up in Kirby's cheek when she pouts. 

“If it makes you feel any better, it was kind of nice waking up alone.” Fallon dips her head, running a comb through her hair. Kirby quirks an eyebrow. 

“I'm serious! It felt nice to be myself for a minute, instead of just part of a couple or a family or a company or whatever.”

“Oh, okay.” Kirby withdraws her arms from around Fallon, ignoring the little huff that escapes her girlfriend at that. “Little Miss Independent today, I see. Well I guess I'll just take myself and my breakfast and see myself out then.”

Fallon slips off the chair, standing and sashaying her way over to Kirby. She plucks her coffee out of Kirby's hand while her free hand works its way around Kirby's waist to the belt loops in the back.

“I didn't say you could go," she says, pulling Kirby closer to her with a pout. “It's my birthday. You have to do what I say.”

“Do I, now? And what does the birthday girl want, then?”

Fallon sets the coffee back down onto the table, her arms working their way under Kirby's shirt to run lightly over the skin of her back. Kirby shivers at the touch of Fallon's perpetually cold hands, but says nothing as Fallon's fingers creep around to the front of her body. Fallon smiles slyly at Kirby, dipping her head once, twice to press her lips to the dip above Kirby's collarbones.

“Birthday girl would like you to come back to bed _with_ her,” Fallon says softly, untangling her hands from Kirby's shirt to link their fingers together. She steps back with a hum, pulling Kirby with her.

“Can you really be classified as a birthday girl if you aren't in your birthday suit?” Kirby asks. Fallon is sure it was meant to come out as seductive, but instead Kirby erupts into laughter, snorting at her own joke as Fallon looks at her with incredulity. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

Kirby smiles widely at her. Fallon decides this is the opportune moment to shove her girlfriend down onto the pillows and crawl on top of her.

She leans down next to Kirby's ear, ignoring the way Kirby sucks in a breath when she brushes her teeth against the earlobe.

“You, babe—” she pauses, kissing the spot right below her ear that always seems to drive Kirby crazy. Kirby shifts beneath her, reaching for Fallon and trying to capture her lips. Fallon tuts at her. “—you are just simply not funny.”

She pulls back to watch Kirby's scowl, grinning with delight at the way Kirby freezes below her before reaching up and flipping their bodies. Fallon flops back against the bed happily, her arms reaching up by her head to grasp the pillow as Kirby works her mouth down Fallon's neck and towards the neckline of her tank top. She arches into the other woman's touch, sighing happily as Kirby grips the bottom of her shirt and begins to work it up her body and over her head. Kirby's lips find their way down her chest as her hand snakes down, skating lightly over her abdomen and down towards her thighs. 

“You _tease_ ,” Fallon growls, reaching down herself to try to speed up the process. Kirby tuts, releasing her lips from Fallon to look up at her.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Kirby says, grabbing her arms and pushing them back above Fallon's head. “What's the magic word?”

"I'm leaving you for Liam," she deadpans. Kirby just kisses her again, giggling into it.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffs. “I'm sure he'll take you back after those stitches he needed from the salt shaker you threw at him.”

“I make no apologies. He deserved it.”

“I'm pretty sure the boy was supposed to be allowed to eat lunch in peace.”

“Not with Trashley he wasn't.”

Kirby waves her off.

“Who cares, anyways?” she asks. She snuggles deeper into the covers beside Fallon as she leans in for another kiss. “Tell me this isn't the best birthday you've ever had.”

Fallon tilts her head, pretending to think for a moment.

“I can think of one thing that would make this birthday better,” she says lightly. Kirby lifts her head from where it's been lying in the crook of Fallon's neck, a look of mock seriousness taking over her face.

“Tell me,” she says. “Tell me right now.”

Fallon is certain it's meant to be a joke, from the over-exaggerated frown on Kirby's face to the glimmer in her eye. But she also knows that Kirby means it, wholeheartedly and with every fiber in her being, and there's something about that that makes a normally very grounded woman feel like she could fly if Kirby were there to cheer her on. She smiles softly at Kirby, giving herself not even a moment to think it over.

“Marry me.”

Kirby's eyes widen, and she props herself up, knocking into Fallon as she does so. There's a mild look of panic in her eyes, and Fallon's heart sinks into her stomach for the first time. Still, though, Kirby's heard her and she can't just brush it off as a joke, not when it's something so raw in her chest. She swallows hard, pushing herself up next to Kirby. She faces her girlfriend, crossing her legs and reaching up to press a lock of hair back from Kirby's cheek.

“Marry me.”

Kirby pulls her hands back from Fallon's, twisting them in one another. 

“What brought this on?”

This is, to put it nicely, not the reaction Fallon had been expecting.

“What do you mean, what brought this on?” she asks carefully. “I love you, you're everything to me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Fallon pauses.

“Is that—is that not what you want?”

Kirby's face softens, and she reaches out for Fallon. 

“No, I—,” she hesitates, swallowing as if to regroup her words. “You know that's what I want, Fallon, I just— I wasn't expecting this. It feels a little bit impulsive, and I want you to actually want this and not just be asking because you feel good and high and happy on your birthday.”

“Impulsive?” Fallon asks, trying not to let the hurt and anger seep into her voice. “We've known each other our entire lives. We've been together for nearly two years. Exactly what part of marriage is impulsive?”

Kirby's eyes flit down, exposing for the first time what Fallon recognizes as fear and anxiety.

“Kirb,” she says, leaning in towards her. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

Kirby looks at her, an unreadable expression on her face. Fallon fidgets under the intensity of her gaze.

“I'm thinking that you've been engaged before,” she says bluntly. Fallon recoils, and Kirby follows by reaching out for her again. “No, no, no. I just meant that you've been engaged before and those relationships haven't worked out and it feels like you haven't thought this through because if you couldn't make it work with the most perfect men ever, what makes you think that we'll work?”

Fallon laughs lightly, twisting the rings on her right hand. She grabs the bed’s throw pillow from where it had been tossed to the floor in their earlier tryst, fingering it open and fishing the tiny pouch she'd stored inside it earlier in the month. Kirby watches her carefully, sucking in a sharp breath when a princess cut diamond set in a bed of sapphires tumbles out onto Fallon's outstretched palm.

“Oh.”

Fallon smirks. It's hard to surprise Kirby with just about anything, but it's always a thrill when she manages it.

“I'm not sure," she says, picking the ring up and twirling it between her fingers. “We might not. But I know that I love you and I want to try. Kirby, you're the most open and honest I've ever been with someone that I love, and I can't imagine a world without you in it. Please, Kirb. Marry me.”

Kirby frowns at her again, but there's a playful glint in her eye this time.

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend who thinks emotions are the thing that goes bump in the night?”

Fallon rolls her eyes.

“Is that a yes?" she asks. She moves to close her fingers around the ring again. “Because if not, I can take this back and go find another pretty Australian girl to marry.”

Kirby squeals, trying to pry Fallon's fingers open again. 

“Gimme.”

“I still haven't heard anything resembling a yes,” Fallon teases, holding the ring above her head. Kirby is taller than her, though, and when she reaches to grab it back from Fallon, she topples them both back down onto the bed.

“Yes, Fallon, you absolutely insufferable woman. I'll marry you.”

She huffs, grabbing the ring successfully out of Fallon's fingers and turning it in her own to look at it. Fallon lets her admire it for a moment before speaking.

“So, do I get to put it on you at any point, or..?”

Kirby rolls her eyes, handing the ring back to Fallon and holding her left hand out to her. Fallon smirks, grabbing her hand and slipping it onto her ring finger. She twists it so it sits perfectly before looking up at Kirby with a smile.

“Happy?” Kirby asks, pursing her lips slightly. Fallon reaches out to pull her in for another kiss, smiling into Kirby's lips. She pulls back, looking at Kirby.

“Mmm, very much so, thank you,” she says. She threads her fingers through Kirby's, admiring the sparkle of the ring in the morning light. She looks at Kirby, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I love you, Kirby. This wasn't sudden.”

“I got that part when you whipped out a ring,” Kirby interrupts. Fallon grins, leaning in for another kiss and tucking herself under Kirby's arm. She pouts. 

“Say you love me.”

“I love you, Fallon. Even if I am your _fourth_ fiancé.”

Kirby narrowly dodges the manicured hand that reaches out to poke her in the side. Instead, she grabs it, pressing Fallon's arms above her head again and resuming her trail of kisses down Fallon's throat.

“Don't worry, Fallon,” Kirby says, pausing for a moment. Fallon's hands move back to grip the pillow she lays on. Kirby's own hands, now free, fall back to Fallon's hips and begin to work her underwear down her legs. “Fourth time's the charm.”

Kirby winks, and Fallon's eyes widen as she starts to put two and two together as to what Kirby's new plans for the morning are. But before she can begin to put together a coherent protest, Kirby's face has dipped between her legs and any words she had are forgotten in lieu of desperate whines and moans.


End file.
